The Nachusa bison

Anthony SouffleChicago Tribune Photojournalist

I remember waking up around 4 a.m. on the first night in Iowa and having no idea where I was. I was in a sleeping bag, in a big metal box, getting slightly rained on. I looked around befuddled for a moment trying to place my surroundings. Then I remembered, I was sleeping in a livestock trailer and this was going to be my home for the next six days. I rolled over and went back to sleep. That coming day was going to be a busy one, setting up for annual bison roundup at Broken Kettle Grasslands near Sioux City, Iowa.

I first pitched the idea of traveling with the team from the Nachusa Grasslands after doing a story back in July about their nearly 30-year-long project restoring crop fields to native prairie in Franklin Grove, Ill. The culmination of all this work was to introduce a herd of grazing animals into the ecosystem and those animals were coming from Broken Kettle. Bison, being a native species, were selected as the ideal candidates and the team at Nachusa had diligently spent the past several years researching, attending roundups at other preserves, and building the infrastructure needed to contain their new lawnmowers.

I’ve always thought the most difficult part of being a photojournalist is weaving yourself into the lives of the subjects you’re covering and to be truly accepted in a way that allows them to forget you’re there. The team from Nachusa couldn’t have made it any easier. From the moment I climbed into the truck I felt as if I had known them for years, and seven hours in a car didn’t hurt. With us on the trip was the Nachusa Grasslands Project Director Bill Kleiman, restoration ecologist Cody Considine, longtime volunteer David Crites, video intern for The Nature Conservancy Ferran Salat, Southern Illinois University Carbondale graduate student Julie Brockman, and Director of Science for the Illinois chapter of The Nature Conservancy Jeff Walk.

Once we arrived in Iowa we sept up camp in the brand new livestock trailer which would be used to haul back two massive bison bulls at the end of the week. Until then, it was home and a comfortable one, relatively speaking (albeit terribly confusing at 4 a.m.). The weather was gorgeous and the bugs surprisingly reasonable.

The Monday before the roundup was a prep day. The team spent the entire day working to fill troughs, grease gates, troubleshoot generators and generally get ready for the next day. The weather was beautiful that Monday and I spent the day trying to get familiar with how their system worked. At the end of the day I watched and photographed as the team from Broken Kettle drove the bison into a smaller trap pasture to make them easier to herd into the corrals during the roundup the next day.

One of the parts of this story I wish had come though better was the camaraderie among those I was photographing. The team from Nachusa had been working together years to bring bison back to their prairie. They attended roundups at several different operations to see how bison were managed and from each experience they pulled what they considered to be the best ideas and practices to implement with their new herd. Along the way they built upon their existing relationships to the point they were near family. This was never more apparent than during the nights that week spent around the campfire sharing tales of roundups, bison, ideals and life. I can honestly say they were some of the most interesting and kind people I’ve come across on the job.

Anthony Souffle / Chicago Tribune

Cody Considine, the restoration ecologist at Nachusa Grasslands, inflates a sleeping pad before spending the night in a livestock trailer after arriving to retrieve a group of bison Sunday, Sept. 28, 2014 at the Broken Kettle Grasslands Preserve in Westfield, Iowa.

Cody Considine, the restoration ecologist at Nachusa Grasslands, inflates a sleeping pad before spending the night in a livestock trailer after arriving to retrieve a group of bison Sunday, Sept. 28, 2014 at the Broken Kettle Grasslands Preserve in Westfield, Iowa. (Anthony Souffle / Chicago Tribune)

Tuesday, the morning of the roundup, we awoke and immediately began to check the weather. As dark, low hanging clouds loomed in the distance we prepared for a wet day in the mud. We left the bunkhouse site just after dawn and drove to meet the Broken Kettle team at the corrals. Soon pickup trucks began to crowd the makeshift parking lot as locals and staff from various preserves across the Midwest came to lend a hand for the day. Scott Moats, the director of stewardship for the Iowa chapter of The Nature Conservancy, ran the show. After a planning and safety meeting, jobs were assigned and the process began.

The weather held out as the team headed out into the trap pasture to drive the bison in. I thought hard about where I should be. There would be dramatic shots to be had watching them move the herd over the hilly Iowa landscape. However, that initial shot of the bison thundering into the corrals seemed almost necessary. I elected to stay back with Cody Considine and David Crites, whose job it was to close the gates once the animals came running in. After a short wait we heard a low rumble and the buzz of a four-wheeler as the bison charged over the hilltop and funneled down into the industrial looking corrals. As the bison herd was driven in, having learned from years past I’m told, they would fracture into smaller groups making it more difficult for the team to gather them all up. Over an hour later they had nearly all the animals in, sans a wayward bull who managed to jump the six foot high fence back into the main pasture.

Anthony Souffle / Chicago Tribune

Scott Moats, director of stewardship for the Iowa chapter of The Nature Conservancy, and Emily Hohman, the western Iowa land steward, use four-wheelers to round up their herd of bison and drive them into a trap pasture in preparation for the annual roundup Monday, Sept. 29, 2014 at the Broken Kettle Grasslands Preserve in Westfield, Iowa.

Scott Moats, director of stewardship for the Iowa chapter of The Nature Conservancy, and Emily Hohman, the western Iowa land steward, use four-wheelers to round up their herd of bison and drive them into a trap pasture in preparation for the annual roundup Monday, Sept. 29, 2014 at the Broken Kettle Grasslands Preserve in Westfield, Iowa. (Anthony Souffle / Chicago Tribune)

Once inside the corrals the animals are pushed towards a series of chutes, though a sweep tub, and into a squeeze chute. This hydraulic contraption held the bison still enough for the veterinarian to collect blood, check for a microchip, administer any medication needed and generally check the well being of each member of the herd. Once though the bison were sorted into individual pens, with one set staying at Broken Kettle and another bound for Nachusa.

One of the things I came to realize about this whole process is that it can be a violent one. These animals, sans the perimeter fence which contains them and an occasional cattle cube treat, have little to no contact with humans. This once-a-year roundup is the only time the bison are brought in and handled, a process they genuinely seem to despise. As an animal lover, it was occasionally difficult to watch. However, I can say with confidence that the folks there took great pains to ensure there was minimal harm and stress on the animals. Happily not a single animal died that day (which does happen on occasion) and none seemed more than temporarily hindered by the ordeal.

During the week I worked really hard to balance taking still photos with recording video. I love the power of a single still frame — however, with a story like this I really feel like video shines. The video allows viewers to see how quick and powerful these animals are, but more importantly it allows them to hear what’s going on. The roundup is a bit chaotic. There’s all kinds of things happening, team members yelling directions to others, the sound of the bison’s hooves and horns crashing into the metal gates, and the unmistakable grunting sound they emit (which we all took turns trying to replicate over the week). Aside of shooting with my normal DSLR cameras, I also took along a GoPro which allowed me to record from angles that would have been too tight or too dangerous for me to physically be.

We had to wait a few days for tuberculosis tests to come back, but once everything came back negative, the team ran each of the animals though the chutes to attach radio collars to a few, then into the semi trailer to Illinois. The team decided to separate the two oldest and largest bulls from the rest of the herd and giving them their own compartments on a separate stock trailer. Watching those last two bulls get loaded in was incredible. At one point they were trying to close the gate between compartments and a bull charged it straight on. The nice, new, shiny stock trailer got its first ding as his horn sliced though the metal like an aluminum can. One of my favorite photos from the trip is Cody Considine reacting as the door was shut and the last animal was loaded.

Driving back to Illinois was a non-stop trip sans two momentary rest stops. With a trailer full of wild bison the team couldn’t exactly pull over and let them roam around the dog walking area. We arrived back at Nachusa in the middle of the night under the light of a nearly full moon. I hopped off the truck and got into place as the trailer slowly reversed to make contact with the loading chute. I have to admit, it bore a striking resemblance to the opening scene in Jurassic Park. Thankfully though, no one lost a leg. Once the trailer was in place and the door open the bison refused to budge, unable to see where they were stepping off the truck to. After a few failed attempts the decision was made to leave the truck, door wide open, parked where it was and allow the bison to come out on their own. The two bulls charged willing from the smaller stock trailer and immediately began munching hay.

The next morning the trailer was empty. Sometime around first light the herd had wandered off the truck and the animals were eating hay at their new home. I photographed them for a bit, did one closeout interview with Cody Considine, and headed back to the city.

Driving back in I realized what a nice retreat it was to be out among nature. It was a welcome change from life in the city. I’d encourage anyone to go visit Nachusa if you have the opportunity and spend the day there — it’s a pretty amazing place. Check back in the coming months for updates on the herd. I’m already planning a trip out to Nachusa with a 600mm lens after the first big snow we have this year. I can only imagine they’ll be quite the sight in the winter landscape. For a photo diary of our trip click through the gallery above.

One thing I do have to share with anyone who’s made it this far, take a moment and watch the four “Guy On A Buffalo” videos on YouTube. While on the trip Cody Considine and David Crites insisted we all watch them together and it instantly became one of my favorite memories.